


Misericordium

by Ursula



Series: Crossing Paths [2]
Category: The X-Files, White Collar
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-31
Updated: 2010-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-06 21:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ursula/pseuds/Ursula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal Caffrey goes to prison and he's so beautiful. How did he get out unscathed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misericordium

Title: Misericordium

Author: Ursula  
Rating: rating: NC-17  
Genre and/or Pairing: Neal Caffrey and Peter Burke preslash, Alex Krycek and Neal Caffrey past slash  
Notes: Natural for me to want my Alex Krycek to protect Neal Caffrey  
Spoilers: White Collar pilot only  
Warnings: Slash and cross over between X File and White Collar  
Word Count:   
Summary: Neal Caffrey goes to prison and he's so beautiful. How did he get out unscathed?

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

It stopped being fun when Peter left him there.

The trial had been exciting and Peter had come to see him almost every day in jail. It just seemed like a game except for Kate crying.

Somehow Neal was sure he would win. He sat next to his attorney and spent the time gazing at Peter who sat with the mean bitch of an attorney general. Neal's attorney was nice enough, but she was god awful serious. It would have been more amusing to sit next to Peter. He contented himself with making origami angels along with casting doe eyes across the room that Peter Burke couldn't seem to resist no matter how he tried to turn away.

Damn, Peter was scary good in court. He didn't look at Neal when he was talking about his crimes. That should have been a real clue that this was real, that this was grim, that the next four years of Neal's life were going to be hell.

Once Peter's wife came to court. She was very pretty and gave Neal a look of sympathy. He hadn't been prepared to think she deserved Peter, but the pity in her look was persuasive.

The jailers weren't mean and Neal's cell mates were a crying man who had killed someone when driving intoxicated and a gay prostitute who was very fun, even if Neal refused the freebies. Not that he was utterly opposed to switch hitting, but he liked a clear difference. Wouldn't turn Peter down though if the man asked.

Not likely.

The day that they handed down the verdict, Neal found himself looking at Peter and waiting for him to grin and say, "Let him go so I can catch him again."

Instead, Peter gave him a gaze that seemed to say he was very sorry and his hands shook a little when he gathered up Neal's file.

Sherry, Neal's lovely attorney, said, "I can find some reason to appeal."

Peter dropped Neal's file, having to pick everything up again.

The handcuffs were too tight and Neal stumbled because he was still looking back at Peter when they led him from the court room.

OooOooO

It was a measure of the man that Peter showed up the next day and had Neal brought to a briefing room. He had some good coffee and a lovely deli sandwich, which Neal wolfed down because jail food sucked and he had a hard time eating enough of it to not to feel hungry.

Peter watched him eat with this concerned expression. Neal would have been thrilled by all the attention, but that inverted line between Peter's eyes was growing deeper and he really looked unhappy.

"You're not asking any questions," Neal said, trying for playful.

"I have enough answers," Peter said. "Enough to send you to jail for ten years. I don't need more."

"Although you should get out in four for good behavior."

"Then why?" Neal's hand gestured toward the coffee cup and wrapper.

"Because four years is a long time to go without a decent cup of coffee."

Peter produced a great big chocolate chunk cookie and gave it to Neal.

Neal really wanted to kiss him for that.

"Prison is not like jail," Peter said.

Neal figured. His hair was going to suck without the special formula that Kate ordered to make it glossy. His skin was already rougher from nasty soap.

"Jokes aside," Peter said. "You're going to look good to a lot of those guys."

Neal fluttered his eyelashes. Peter had made a couple inappropriate comments when he was interrogating Neal and trying to intimidate him, but now there was nothing light in his tone.

"I don't want you hurt, kid," Peter said. "This is a wake up call, Neal. You can get through this, but there's a couple things you need to know."

"Like you can't smile at people the way you do," Peter said.

"How?" Neal asked. "What's wrong with the way I smile?"

"Well, you look too happy and uh like you are making an invitation. You flirt."

Neal pondered that. Well, yeah, he flirted. It worked for him a lot of the time. He took a bite of the cookie, making himself savor it.

"You can't look at people the way you do either," Peter added. "Or accept gifts. Don't let anyone give you anything."

Well that sucked. Neal loved presents, giving them, getting them, stealing them on occasion like he used to do when he was a kid.

Nibbling at the cookie, Neal said, "So I should be worried about why you gave me this cookie?"

If things were not so serious, Neal could have eaten that blush that Peter gave him at that question.

"You don't have to worry about me," Peter hastily said. "But I can't arrange for someone to keep an eye on you in prison like I did here."

Which explained why the jailers seemed so nice. Peter was sweet.

"No lip either," Peter said. "Most of those guys will not have a sense of humor. Not the guards either."

Neal had been trying so hard not to be scared, but this talk with Peter wasn't helping.

"It's not my fault," Peter said. "It's my job. I had to catch you. And you deserve the time. So many things you could have done with all that talent, all those brains. What a waste!"

Peter was really trying to hurt his feelings. Neal looked at Peter dolefully.

Peter pounded on the table and said, "Don't look at me that way. I didn't do this to you. You did."

"Everything okay, Agent Burke?" a guard asked, poking his head in the door.

"It's fine," Peter said. "I have to go. You can take him back."

OooOooO

Prison stunk. Smell of men who didn't wash well. Stink of fear. Rotten food smell. Too much bleach and detergents. The coveralls didn't fit and they were rough on his skin. Despite the way Neal looked, certainly not his best, Peter was right about the way some of the inmates gazed at him.

It wasn't going to happen. Neal was experienced, but not at being forced, not at letting some brute rut on his body because there were no women available. He wasn't incapable of defending himself, but he preferred his wits. His hands were delicate instruments that he needed to protect without hurting them.

There was the route of getting a protector, but Neal would not do that unless it was a last resort.

How could Peter have done this to him?

OooOooO

The first day was a blur. This prison was what they called a diagnostic facility. Neal looked forward to sparring with the psychologist who would evaluate him. That should be entertaining.

The day ended with a surprise visit from Peter who seemed a little embarrassed at showing up this soon into Neal's sentence. Peter shoved a file under Neal's nose. It concerned a forger who Peter said was into little boys and used his counterfeit money to pay for them. Neal would have been willing to help but the creep and he certainly did not run in the same circles. Peter's easy acceptance of that explanation told Neal that he didn't really think he could help.

It was just mother-henning and Neal did not feel like manning up around it. He said, "But I could get him for you, Peter. You could get me a deal."

Peter shook his head and said, "You have to do some time. Cooperate, Neal. Don't see how many rules you can break. You can be out in four and have the rest of your life. Listen to me. Don't waste yourself."

Neal watched Peter walk away, back to an FBI agent's life, back to chasing and catching others. It was a sad end to a glittering game. He wished he had some way to keep Peter's attention. It really made Neal sulk to think that his Peter would start to forget him.

Smiling, Neal vowed to find some way to keep Peter's mind on him. Oh, there was something there. Something Peter wasn't quite ready to express. But Neal was pretty sure he could coax it out of Peter. Kate would be so amused if Neal could get Peter in his bed. Half the fun of making a conquest was telling Kate about it after. Or letting her watch. Kate liked to watch.

OooOooO

Neal wasn't much liking Peter a few days later. Some bastard had tried to jump Neal in the shower. He had been quick enough to trip the hulking biker and the guy had slipped, banging his head into the wall, knocking himself out.

Neal had gotten out of there before the guards could associate him with the incident. Given that Riker, the biker, had busted a guard's head a few months back, they weren't looking too hard for his assailant. The rules of the game would not allow Riker to tell on Neal, but when he got out of the infirmary, there would be hell to pay.

"Caffrey, your attorney is here," Mackey announced. Mackey was nice, soon to retire and content to live and let live. He liked that Neal was polite and always asked to see pictures of Mackey's grandkids. Neal had already drawn him a birthday card for the girl, one with a unicorn and lots of flowers. He hadn't asked anything for it. It was fun and it distracted Neal for a few moments.

You always want more time when you are making love, or savoring a fine wine, or riding the wave on top of a perfect con.

In here, time was an enemy that ground you down. That crushed you and sucked the life from your veins.

Four years. If he got good behavior… it made panicky fluttering feelings stir in Neal's chest like his heart was trying to escape the cage of his ribs.

Maybe Sherry had good news.

Neal needed some.

OooOooO

It was not Sherry who waited for him in the attorney room. Neal didn't know which he liked more. The suit or the man who filled it. Alex looked great. He looked pampered and almost happy. Maybe Mulder had actually been nice the last time they ran into each other.

Nah. Alex's FBI Agent Mulder was never nice, not for long. But Alex had money. That was clear.

"You look good," Neal said.

"I wish I could say the same," Alex said, grimacing. "Your hair is terrible."

"I know," Neal said. He gazed at his nails unhappily. Wasn't the right to a manicure a constitutional right?

"Did you let him catch you?" Alex asked sternly. "Your Peter is not my Mulder. My Mulder is slam you up against the wall, fuck you, and feel so guilty he would never be able to bring you in."

Little pink tongue licking that pretty mouth as Alex described HIS FBI agent.

Still, Peter was a good man. A kind man. Ethical. Alex's Mulder was a bit of a renegade. Scary guy that Neal didn't ever really want to meet. Sure didn't want to meet if there was any chance that Mulder could smell Alex's trace on him.

Alex's hands were behind his back. He looked at Neal sternly.

Neal wondered what Alex was thinking.

"I am not going to leave you here," Alex said.

Those hands were suddenly no longer behind Alex's back. They were around Neal, making him feel safe, waking the feelings up that he knew he needed to stow away for at least four years, if he wanted to survive.

Tender fingers carding through his hair, even if it was ruined, gently tracing his back through that ill designed overall, making him beautiful again.

Tears escaped Neal's eyes as Alex hugged him.

"Hush, I will get you out," Alex said. "A new life. A new start. I can stay with you if you want. Mulder's kind of busy anyway."

Oh, that was so easy. Neal had no doubt that Alex could do it. Alex had money, power, and the brains to do almost anything he set his head to. Except get Mulder to admit that he loved him. Poor Alex.

It was what Neal wanted, but instead of the sweet, sweet sound of freedom, Neal heard Peter.

Shut up, Peter.

Talking about four years….four horrible years of ugly clothing, violence, no beauty, of growing older. Rough skin and dull hair. Food that would make him fat if he ate it.

Of probably losing Kate, because Kates don't wait. No, they don't wait at all.

"Don't waste yourself."

Oh my fucking god, Peter, why am I listening to you?

You are such an asshole.

Alex was right here.

Alex loved him.

Maybe not like he loved his Mulder, but Alex loved Neal with his body and with his gentle hands, exploring him like he was something precious. Alex could keep him safe, pamper him, get him back his Kate and keep her happy.

"I can't, Alex."

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Neal, what the hell are you doing? Saying?

"Maybe, I need to do the time," Neal said. "I don't want to be someone else, Alex. I want to be me."

Maybe the truth was that Neal knew what Alex was. How he obtained the power and the wealth. How he could walk into this prison and walk out with Neal, no one coming after them.

Alex was dark. Not evil. Just not a man like Peter.

Neal could see Peter's eyes. Waiting and judging.

Two roads.

Neal said, "It's okay, Alex. I'll be okay. I can do this. Out in no time."

"He better love you," Alex said. "He better make it worth every moment."

Alex was wrong. It wasn't for Peter. It was for Neal. Because there was something beyond the games. Because all of the cons weren't good enough and left him hungry for more.

Because he wasn't Peter's Alex and Peter wasn't his Mulder.

Peter was a white knight and Neal wanted to get beneath that armor and still leave it white.

Still.

"Just hold me for a while"

"You can't stop me from protecting you, Neal," Alex said.

"I won't try," Neal said.

"If you change your mind, I'll know. I'll be here. You know that."

Neal did. He hoped he had the balls to stick this one through. It wasn't a habit of him. Running kept him alive when he was a kid. But a man had to make a stand, didn't he?

By Peter's side…

That would make it all worth it.

OooOooO

The day after Alex's visit, Neal drew a birthday card for Peter. Maybe Peter would never know what the real gift was. Maybe he wouldn't care if Neal was wrong.

Neal drew a tiny heart on the card where Peter might or might not notice.

Time would tell.

The end


End file.
